Clean Up!
by Kali Kalisto
Summary: In which Arthur suffers the effects of Merlin messing up during an enemy's ambush in the woods. King Arthur is horrified beyond belief and not exactly because of his manservant's magic. Currently on hiatus.
1. Chemistry makes a metaphor

**Important Notice:** I discovered I'm not good at handling multichaptered stories, I made a mess of this one and so I won't post anymore chapters until I can convince myself I can properly finish a story. I'm so sorry. I'll live off of oneshots for a while, and thinking of them as ending!training. God.

Well, hello. This is my very first Merlin fanfiction, it is also my first attempt to write one serious, multichapter fic in a language that isn't mine. Proofread and spell checked several times, but something can always escape my scrutiny. If you would mention any mistake in a review/PM I'd be grateful. This is a prologue so it's short but next chapter will be up before this weekend and it's much longer.

**Summary:** In which Arthur suffers the effects of Merlin messing up during a pretty good ambush in the woods. King Arthur is horrified beyond belief and not exactly because of his manservant's magic.

**Warnings:** Violence and juuust a tiny sprinkle of torture. Spoilers for Season 4, specially the finale. I'm having a hard time willing myself to not write any Arwen, because I want this to be a gen (meaning no slash either, people!) fic but! It's hard, so, so hard.

**Disclaimer:** Ever had the fantasy that a frustrated Merlin writer posts fanfics in here? I do, so I'm not one of them. No relation to the BBC at all. Nothing of Merlin is mine (gods know I'd kill for his smile).

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><p><strong>In which chemistry makes a metaphor<br>**a.k.a. The Prologue

Long blond hair danced in the wind as the woman ran through the forest, her body dashed quite clumsily around bushes and trees and her feet managed to find every protruding root to nearly trip over. One of her shoulders was injured and a slight trail of blood slid down her arm to sully leaves and ground with scarlet droplets. Her chain mail was horribly torn and charred on her right side and her handsome face displayed a small idiotic smile and empty eyes.

She suddenly crashed with a thick bush as some awareness lighted up her eyes and she stumbled to regain her footing as a dizzying flow of excruciating pain (oh, how the burn _hurt_) and confusing memories waved over her. She remembered the ambush, bandits and sorcerers united, seeking her death. She remembered the painful cries of those with her and the... _oh_. The _magic_. In the hazy memory of his treachery, she could remember his shout to run to safety, but try as she might, she could not recall heeding his words. So what...? And where...?

She was trying to bring back all the details, but she found it was rather hard to concentrate. The burn on her side pulsated with piercing pain and her apparent mad dash didn't help at all. Her left shoulder ached and stung and really, she could use a break. Her blue eyes fell on a cluster of rocks, partially hidden by overgrown shrubbery and decided it was as good enough hideout. There was no certainty that all enemies had been left behind. Or taken care of. By magic. _His_ magic. Seeing as his betrayal (or was it? Can such word be applied to an act that had saved your life and probably the lives of the others as well?) hurt as much as her wounds, she decided to take a look at the latter first and so let herself slid down the rocks, where the greenery was the thickest. She let out a breath.

That's when she started to notice the differences.

Like the long hair tickling on her cheeks and her neck. And the hand that she incredulously raised to see if it was real? Calloused, yes, but _dainty_. With trembling fingers she touched her face only to find that its shape was different. Pure dread pouring out of her widened eyes, she slowly, very slowly, turned to look at her chest. No mistaking the pair of small, perky mounds that hadn't been there a moment before. She did not touch them. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Amidst the horror, the shock and the forgotten pain, a tendril of anger blazed fiercely.

It was his fault. She knew it was. He was an idiot through and through, _of course_ him having magic wouldn't change that. Either that or his brand of evil went beyond brilliant. There was no King Arthur now as she was one gender away from it. And the Queen spot was already occupied. She paused for a second at that thought. _Bloody hell_,_ Guinevere_. Whichever it was, idiocy or evil, it sure was a nice way to create chaos in all levels inside Camelot.

Uncaring if her hiding spot was revealed, she hollered her fury to the skies. "_MERLIN!_"

And she hated how melodic her bloodthirsty voice was.

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><p><strong>Final Notes:<strong> You can understand now why any Arwen in this fic must have a warning. You may also comprehend how tempting it is.

I decided to write this story one time I was looking through some long-dead spanish lj communities and came across this table whose prompts where words taken from organic chemistry. I loved it and took for this fic its first one, Isomers, which, in a nutshell, are compounds with the exact same molecular formula but different structures. So we have an Arthur who is the same Arthur just that his... _attributes_ are northward instead of southward.

Enjoy! Feedback is much appreciated.

Kali K.


	2. Someone should learn from experience

I've been trying to update this story since Thursday but FF dot net was being whimsical and wouldn't let me log in. Sorry for the lateness.

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><p><strong>In which someone should learn from experience<br>**Chapter 01

Given the alarming frequency in which it happened, Merlin shouldn't have been surprised when it did, yet again. Honestly, the warlock ought to have been expecting it, sighing in annoyance as the Incident strolled around the corner and hit them square with no more warning than a little bit high-pitched warcry. Arthur would've said it'd never change, though, because his manservant was an idiot and Merlin had indeed been surprised, taken unaware and he kind of, sort of panicked and messed up big time.

As it was, it began with a hunting trip.

Arthur had always been fond of the thrill of the hunt, the freedom it made him feel, the run and the chase, the overpowering of the natural, survival instincts and finally the claiming of his reward. With Camelot seeing a Queen for the first time in over twenty years, though, the young king resigned himself to a long time away from the forest, while he supervised his wife's immersion into a whole new world of politics and court's affairs. Of course, he confessed to Merlin later, a bit shamefully, he'd underestimated Guinevere.

Given that, it was almost a month after their marriage that Arthur got an opportunity to freely go into a killing spree through the woods. The king wanted to share such an experience with his Queen but he was dismayed to find Gwen and Merlin shared the same disapproving views about death for fun. Deep inside, a little part of him felt betrayed to see the two persons he cared the most side together against him.

So of course he'd ordered Merlin out of bed earlier than usual and made him pack more weaponry and items than needed for a one-day hunting trip, just to see him sweat and stumble and, hopefully, trip over. Trust Merlin to notice he was on the receiving end of a grudge intended for two _and_ tease him mercilessly about it. Sir Elyan's poorly concealed knowing smile didn't help and it most definitely did not help to lighten his mood when Sir Gwaine joined in on the open teasing.

When Arthur shot his first rabbit of the day, he did so with near-sadist glee and when Merlin tripped then yelped as he crashed into a tree soon after in his haste to pick up the poor animal, the King's laughter echoed a mile ahead. In retrospective, that might have been something akin to the torch in the pitch black night for their attackers. It was no so long after that, right in the middle of shooting a particularly fat and delicious-looking wild boar, that they noticed the sudden silence, like a crazed beating into their eardrums. The boar did too, for it reached up with his head and scurried along quickly, letting itself get lost within the forest's leaves and shadows.

The four of them spun on their spots, shooting sharp glances across the scenery, trying to find what exactly was wrong. Elyan and Gwaine got closer to Arthur (who had threw his crossbow over his shoulder at his manservant, to have his hands free to maneuver his sword), and the three missed the flinch and stiffening of Merlin's frame. The warlock was sure now, and he did not like it one bit. Magic, strong magic, was creeping out from within the roots, moving as gracefully as mist and bonding together, like a chain, around them. Merlin could feel the working of it, sense its complex nature and so it was with dread that he realized that the magic was to prevent any of them escaping the invisible circle it had drawn on the ground.

"Done~!" A high-pitched voice, a female's, rang cheerily somewhere around them causing their hands–the King's and knight's, that is, to grip and half-unsheathed their swords.

"Who is this?" Arthur shouted, unsure of the direction the voice came from. "Show yourself!"

They came from all around them. Five men and one woman, all but one carrying lowered swords. They approached them as if they were strolling innocently through the woods and sporting smug grins on their faces. They sent chills down Merlin's spine. A handsome man stepped out, the one with a twisted, wooden staff in his hand instead of a sword. He stopped a few paces away from them and, as the warlock noticed, just outside the trapping circle.

"Your majesty," he said, his voice rich and deep, as he bowed so low and so exaggerated it came off as mockery, "such _honor._"

Arthur, at equal parts unnerved and angry by not just the mocking bow and the unfaltering grins but the formation, still unbroken, around them, walked up to the man, his sword ready in his his hand. Behind him, Gwaine and Elyan followed suit, the dark-skinned man keeping an eye on the people at their backs while the ale-loving one placed himself strategically near the King, while giving Merlin a look that clearly said _what's with this people?_

"Who are you and what do you want from us?" Inquired the King, both his voice and eyes acquiring a steely hue.

The man with the staff sighed, a gesture of exaggerated dread masked his face. "Why must you test my memory, your _highness_?" he shook his head, the free hand flying up to massage the bridge of his nose. "Oh, well, I shall start with the easiest answer—I'm Ulfric." He moved his staff to point at the nearest man to his right. "He's Matt, he's Edian, he's Janus," at each name, the man, Ulfric, pointed the person it belonged to. "Why, the lovely Aloine and I think, I'm most positive, that he's Nott." Ulfric smiled the smile one would gift a short-minded kid, and added. "Then there's Owen, Brendt, Blaise, pretty but feisty Fenice and a small bunch I never bothered to learn their names, since our alliance will be short-lived. These you can't see, as they're hidden away."

By now, Arthur was fuming. He faintly heard Gwaine's "you know, under other circumstances, I'd like this man" and it increased his anger a notch. The king raised his sword, its tip aimed to Ulfric's neck. "It will do you good to stop with your jokes. I won't ask a third time, who are you and what do you want."

The leader raised his arms. "I was only answering your question." At Arthur's glare and emphasizing gesture of his sword, he sighed. "So you have no humor," at this he addressed the knights and servant. "How do you cope with him? Must be tough."

"Not really, Merlin makes him bearable."

"_Sir Gwaine_," Arthur nearly growled.

Gwaine flashed him a sly smile. "You're just mad 'cause you're proving him right."

"This is madness," breathed Elyan, tense from the obvious bloodlust in the atmosphere and frustrated by the lack of fighting stance in the people surrounding them. Something was allowing them to be that confident and not knowing why or what made the knight wary. That Arthur was being his usual oblivious self and Gwaine spouting his usual batch of silliness only served to make matters worse. While Ulfric let out a barking laugh, Elyan directed a glance towards Merlin, wondering what he thought of it but found the manservant in an apparent shocked trance—eyes lowered and completely immobile save for his lips, who were moving frantically. The dark-skinned knight was getting tired of this passive-aggressive conversation and decided it was high time to get on with it. "Answer the King's question. Now!"

Ulfric, who apparently was finding them beyond comical, laughed again. "My, another grouch, fine, fine. So, who we are, right? We," he paused, probably to add some dramatic effect, "are an alliance of people seeking the same goal—justice for all the people you've murdered. Oh, don't you dare give me that confused face," for the first time, his grin faltered and disappeared, an angry, disgusted scowl taking its place on his face, "people you've killed on behalf of your father lies about magic and people with as much magic as coal who died because of your delusions."

Arthur's widened in understanding, then narrowed in fury. "You're _sorcerers_!"

"Not all of us, no, but about half and yet all of us grieve. Arthur Pendragon, today we will have our justice."

A second before Arthur's warcry, Merlin knew what would happen when Arthur's sword tried to cut Ulfric's neck. It was going to be bad for them, and he was probably going to have to expose his magic in order to save them. He knew because he'd been trying his best to subtly break the magic caging them as soon as he realized its purpose. Too soon the warlock found out not only was it complex magic but _well done_ complex magic, hard to create and even harder to maintain—meaning there several skilled sorcerers with them. Eyes lowered at an angle he hoped would hid the tell-tale gold shine, Merlin set to subtly ensure their way out, trying spell after after spell. Some he knew from his book some he made up in the spot. They all failed, but at least they gave the warlock some insight as how it worked.

So when Arthur tried to cut Ulfric's neck and the magic rose up like a barrier, countering the _slash_ of the word with a metallic _clang_ and throwing the King backwards with extraordinary force, Merlin was ready to act. His eyes brightened with gold at one whispered word and Arthur's impact onto the ground, who might have broken a bone or two, was reduced to a pretty harmless, soft landing. The warlock didn't spare him the indignity of awkwardly doing so on his butt, though, because Arthur had behaved the entire day like a total prat and he deserved it.

"Mmmh," Ulfric mused, "guess plans can't go absolutely perfect. Still, nice enough."

"Arthur!" Elyan rushed to his side, eyes leaving their enemies only enough to make sure there were no visible wounds. "Are you alright?"

Arthur grunted and stood up angrier than before, anger that did not decreased when he saw the smug grin had returned to the sorcerer's face. "Come and face me," the King barked. "Don't hide yourself behind petty tricks!"

"Of course you'd call it petty," Ulfric rolled his eyes. "You don't know the beauty of its complexity. Now this," he lowered his staff and pointed it at Arthur's chest, "is petty. _Gwasanaeth Tân! Gwnewch belen!_"

His staff glowed along with his eyes and a huge fireball erupted from it, flying quickly towards the King. Elyan, being the closest to him, tackled him to the ground as the fire passed over their heads, but before they could sigh in relief and laugh at it hitting one of the standing men around, the fireball collided with the limits of the circle—the magic rose and clashed with it, sending it back with much more speed and force than before, directly at Gwaine.

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><p><strong>Final notes:<strong>

A big thank you to all the people who reviewed and alerted (and favorited! _omgomg_) this fic, I'm so glad! So here I'm hoping you liked this chapter.

All spells are in welsh, here's the translations.

_Gwasanaeth Tân! Gwnewch belen!__**- **__**Fire! Make a ball!  
><strong>__Ddryllio!__** - Fragmentation/Shatter!**_

As always feedback is much appreciated.

Kali K.


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